In their book Identity, Personhood and the Law,1 authors Charles Foster and Jonathan Herring seek, among other things, to show that the law is based on overly simplistic assumptions about the nature of personal identity. In their Author Meets Critics précis, they summarise the main contentions of the book on this issue. Difficulties in the law’s simplistic approach are, they claim, exposed when we think about people with dementia, ‘where [in advanced cases] I may turn into a person with no (...) apparent continuity at all with my own self’ and where: > X2 will simply inhabit a body composed of some of the same cells as belonged to X1. Deep brain stimulation ‘may similarly transform ‘my’ attributes to such an extent that it seems false to continue to talk about ‘me’ at all.’ Other examples, including cases of patients suffering severe anorexia or who have fallen into a permanent vegetative state, are given. All of them ‘call into question the atomistic, billiard-ball model of identity used by the law and by our uninterrogated intuitions.’ The authors’ approach is to begin with these and a number of other examples and raise several philosophical and ethical issues. They then discuss the issues and develop principles which they apply to the same examples at the end of the book. In this commentary, I cannot do justice to all the claims and challenges to the law the authors make in their rich and highly recommended book. I will focus only on the issue of personal identity and their remarks about the simplistic assumptions made by the courts on this issue. Although my comments will not always be in agreement with theirs, these remarks should be taken …. (shrink)

Charles Foster and Jonathan Herring are to be congratulated on their useful presentation of the roles played by concepts of personhood and identity in English medical law.1 However, I fear that the project they have undertaken here is misconceived. It is an interesting and important misconception, which is widely shared in the literature on medical law and ethics; but a misconception it remains. The problem is this. What we call ‘the Law’ is in fact a complex assemblage of institutions, rules, (...) accredited persons, practices and systems. What it is not is a self-sufficient, integrated and self-interpreting system of doctrine. As such it does not have a clear structure which we can excavate and the idea that we can find concepts which explain and unify that structure at some deep level is thus quixotic. To approach ‘the Law’ in that way is to pursue a chimaera. We should instead think of ‘the Law’ as Wittgenstein taught us to approach a language.2 We can find concepts through investigation of language in practical use, but the …. (shrink)

The law tends to think that there is no difficulty about identifying humans. When someone is born, her name is entered into a statutory register. She is ‘X’ in the eyes of the law. At some point, ‘X’ will die and her name will be recorded in another register. If anyone suggested that the second X was not the same as the first, the suggestion would be met with bewilderment. During X's lifetime, the civil law assumed that the X who (...) entered into a contract was the same person who breached it. The criminal law assumed that X, at the age of 80, was liable for criminal offences ‘she’ committed at the age of 18. This accords with the way we talk. ‘She's not herself today’, we say; or ‘When he killed his wife he wasn't in his right mind’. The intuition has high authority: ‘To thine own self... (shrink)

The law tends to think that there is no difficulty about identifying humans. When someone is born, her name is entered into a statutory register. She is ‘X’ in the eyes of the law. At some point, ‘X’ will die and her name will be recorded in another register. If anyone suggested that the second X was not the same as the first, the suggestion would be met with bewilderment. During X's lifetime, the civil law assumed that the X who (...) entered into a contract was the same person who breached it. The criminal law assumed that X, at the age of 80, was liable for criminal offences ‘she’ committed at the age of 18. This accords with the way we talk. ‘She's not herself today’, we say; or ‘When he killed his wife he wasn't in his right mind’. The intuition has high authority: ‘To thine own self be true’, urged Polonius.1 It sounds as if we believe in souls—immutable, core essences that constitute our real selves. Medicine conspires in the belief. If you become mentally ill, a psychiatrist will seek to get you back to your right mind. The Mental Capacity Act 1985 states that when a patient loses capacity the only lawful interventions will be interventions which are in that patient's best interests,2 and that in determining what those interests are the decision-maker must have …. (shrink)

Charles Foster and Jonathan Herring are to be congratulated on their useful presentation of the roles played by concepts of personhood and identity in English medical law. 1 However, I fear that the project they have undertaken here is misconceived. It is an interesting and important misconception, which is widely shared in the literature on medical law and ethics; but a misconception it remains. The problem is this. What we call ‘the Law’ is in fact a complex assemblage of institutions, (...) rules, accredited persons, practices and systems. What it is not is a self-sufficient, integrated and self-interpreting system of doctrine. As such it does not have a clear structure which we can excavate and the idea that we can find concepts which explain and unify that structure at some deep level is thus quixotic. To approach ‘the Law’ in that way is to pursue a chimaera. We should instead... (shrink)